


Freezing my aft off!

by TammyCat



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Freezing my aft off!, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Stuck on a ship in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1929600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TammyCat/pseuds/TammyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped on a disabled cruiser, surrounded by frontliners, running low on energon and with the temperature sitting just above freezing. Yeah, that's a perfect situation for romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this for a while. Every now and then I just go back and write a little more, it's taken me about six months to get this out. I hope you enjoy!

The ship should have been fine to get them to the next outpost in thirteen cycles. Should being the operative word.

An unexpected meteor belt had thrown that out the proverbial window. Thankfully emergency protocols had allowed them to repair the damaged hull without losing any life. Unfortunately the ship hadn't survived quite so well. Four of the six thrusters had been damaged by the space debris along with one main engine and two sub-engines. Externally located systems had been compromised as well. The resulting fallout had sent the crew into a frenzy to stabilize the life support and gravity systems.

Unfortunately some of the completely necessary systems were not able to be fully reinitialized. Freezing temperatures forced the Autobots inside to huddle in groups to preserve body heat. The only mechs not sitting together were the command staff and those required to keep the ship operational.

"Prowl, the secondary energon processing unit has been repaired. I don't know what quality of we'll get out of it though."

"Quality is not what I'm concerned about. Keeping the crew online and healthy is more important than taste. Everyone is to be on survival rations."

Smokescreen nodded and made a note on his datapad. Prowl watched for a moment before returning his attention to the increasing list of problems that were coming to light. A distress signal had been broadcasted but Prowl wasn't satisfied. Operating on its remaining engines and thrusters the ship would make the thirteen cycle trip in forty-two cycles. A long time to be trapped on a small transport full of soldiers with minimal heating and subpar energon that would be quickly running out.

A familiar form entered the main room the mechs were huddled in. Jazz strolled around the groups, checking on the bots and giving out information when asked. He sidled up to Prowl.

"I got bad news, only a handful of bots are even considerin' goin inta stasis."

"I suspected as much." Prowl replied. "The secondary energon unit has been fixed, we may just survive to reach Ultra Magnus' unit."

"'Just survive'? That doesn' fill me with the warm fuzzies, Prowler."

"It does not fill me with confidence either. Our odds have increased since the second energon unit has now become operational. I did not relish the idea of sending mechs into the hold to get it manually. "

Jazz shuddered and Prowl wondered how he could make it look charming. "That's a job I ain't takin', I'd rather be in stasis."

"It will not come to that." Prowl reassured him. "For now we need to focus on keeping as much heat as possible inside this room. I have arranged the shifts to switch out at the same time so the doors are not opening constantly. All communication between teams will be over radio."

"My team has distributed the thermal blankets, should help those doin' repairs and the pilot." He held out a ball of material. "Here, I've already handed out the rest."

Prowl smiled, a tiny lift of his lips. "Thank you, Jazz. That will be extremely helpful for keeping morale up. I'm concerned that our mechs will not handle this hardship with grace."

Jazz laughed. "Grace? Mech we'll be lucky if they haven' torn each part in boredom."

Prowl frowned, uncomfortably sure his friend was right. The bots they had on board were combat trained and ready. Frontliners were a tough model to keep restrained for extended periods of time. They liked to be physically active. Many practiced their close combat skills when bored, unfortunately that also meant they had a tendency to do a fair bit of damage.

Prowl draped the thermal material over his doorwings. He would use it properly once he settled down to recharge. The extra warmth on the highly sensitive plating eased the growing ache. Soon he would have to fold them down, it made him feel blind but it would help conserve energy. Logic dictated that he do everything to conserve as much energy as possible yet he was reluctant to reduce his sensory input until absolutely necessary.

 

 

Prowl jumped as a hand touched his arm sometime later.

"Ya know, it would be better if ya tried to recharge sittin' down."

He turned to see Jazz grinning at him. Prowl looked around to see he had been standing near a corner half offline.

"I suppose that would be more effective."

Jazz laughed and eased down the wall. Prowl followed suit moments later, removing the thermal blanket and folding his doorwings down across his back.

"I didn' know ya could do that."

"It would be unnecessarily uncomfortable if I could not." Prowl repiled, making himself comfortable on the floor. Or as comfortable as he could be surrounded by unyielding metal.

Jazz motioned him forward and held his cover against the wall. Prowl leaned back into the offered material, it lessened the harsh cold of the wall on his sensors.

"Thank you."

Jazz settled the far edge around his shoulders. "Mah pleasure. Just means we have to share yours as well."

Prowl held out his blanket obligingly and Jazz scooched closer, his thigh pressed against Prowl's lightly. He controlled the shiver that threatened to run through his body.

He draped the fabric over them and immediately felt the soothing warmth of their combined body heat. Jazz snuggled closer and grinned up at him.

"Recharge well, Prowler. I have the next shift, I'll try not to wake ya."

Prowl nodded. "I will be attempting to navigate next shift, please wake me."

Jazz laughed softly and snuggled closer, resting his head on Prowl's shoulder. Prowl watched the saboteur's visor go dark as he slipped into recharge.  
He rested his head back against the wall and allowed his recharge protocols to activate.

 

 

Warmth filled every part of his body, the comfort of that warmth was lulling him back to recharge while a niggling thought kept his processor from reinitializing. Why was he so warm when the ship was on the verge of freezing?

Jazz slowly onlined his optics and had to reboot. He was laying on Prowl, one of his arms was wrapped around Prowl's waist while the other was across his chest and their legs were tangled together. He could feel a hand resting on his hip and another on the arm draped over Prowl's chest. The blankets they had used to keep the heat in were now securely wrapped around them, a cocoon of warmth and closely packed body parts.

The warmth beckoned Jazz back into recharge but he refused the temptation, he was more interested in the mech under him. The thought sent delightful shivers through his core.

Prowl looked younger in recharge, his brow didn't have that little furrow in the middle of it and his mouth wasn't as tense. Actually his lips were slightly parted and they shined as puffs of warm air caused condensation on the cool metal.

Jazz smiled and brought his head back down onto Prowl's shoulder. He wondered what it would be like to wake up in these arms everyday, to slip into recharge knowing he wouldn't be alone when the cycle started. A happy sigh left his lips and Jazz snuggled closer. Once Prowl was awake he wouldn't get this close again unless he was overcharged and Prowl supported him to his quarters.

His mind still lost in his fantasy, Jazz didn't realize that he was tracing designs on Prowl's chassis until it moved. He froze, his hand splayed on white plating as Prowl shifted slightly. Jazz felt the hand on his hip tighten and pleasurable sensations ran up his backstrut.

Prowl groaned softly, the sound making Jazz purr. The hand shifted along his arm to his hand, the gentle caress sending shivers of delight through him. Prowl's body moved further, plating sliding against Jazz's in sweet friction that sent his processor whirling into inappropriate territory.

That just meant he was taken by surprised when the form under him moved again and Jazz was suddenly caught under the other black and white. Visor flashing in shock, Jazz was only able to stare as Prowl looked down at him with optics still dark with recharge. Jazz tried to push at Prowl's chest but he was restrained by the tightness of the blankets, his arms trapped between him and Prowl.

"Prowl, what are ya doin'?" Jazz's voice came out hushed, his sensor-net flushed with the feeling of a heated body pressing him into the floor.

Prowl shifted, one of his knees edging up between Jazz's thighs. The contact sending bolts of heat to his spark.

"Prowl...?" His voice shook as desire for the mech above him skyrocketed.

"You're very talkative for a dream."

Jazz stared, stunned into silence for once. Dream? Prowl dreamed of him?

He was saved from answering by the very talented lips of the Tactical Director. Prowl kissed him slowly, drawing a soft moan from Jazz as he was tenderly assaulted. His head was quickly becoming hazy with pleasure as Prowl set off his sensors, claiming all his attention with the extended contact. His vents laboured, filling their little cocoon with even more heat.

Jazz gasped, needing to intake cool air while all his vents were collecting was their radiating heat. Prowl, ever the skilled opportunist, took advantage of Jazz's opening, sliding his glossa into Jazz's mouth. If Jazz could have flailed he would have, or he might have clutched Prowl closer. He arched as much as could into the handsome mech above him.

Prowl continued to claim Jazz's mouth with a dedication Jazz had only seen him display while planning. It was intoxicating, being the focus of Prowl's sensual conquest.

Jazz's hands clenched on whatever part of Prowl he could get a hold of. He pushed up into Prowl, no longer wanting to get out of the blankets but responding to Prowl's kiss. His glossa met and matched the Praxians' as they ground against each other.

Jazz finally got a chance to clear his processor as Prowl left his lips and moved to his neck. This had gotten far out of control, soon they'd be interfacing right here on the floor with a large collection of Autobots just mecano-meters away.

He was going to hate himself for this later. "Prowl, ya have to stop."

Prowl wasn't listening, he was busy running his glossa over the sensitive cables of Jazz's neck.

"Prowler, ya gotta stop before we do somethin'."

Not that Jazz could really remember why he was trying to stop Prowl from doing whatever he wanted. That surprisingly talented mouth was stripping his desire to do anything but open his panel to Prowl and begin a data exchange.

"Very talkative." Prowl rumbled at him. "Dreams are not supposed to talk."

Jazz groaned at the sultry tone. "Ah really _really_ hate to break it to ya, Prowl, but this ain't a dream."

Prowl froze over him, the darkened optics flickered once before lighting up properly and Jazz could see comprehension in those azure depths. He almost regretted saying anything when Prowl pulled back, shock and horror replacing the desirous expression.

Jazz reached for him as Prowl retreated further, his hands gripping at the white edges of his chest armour. His hold on the metal wasn't strong enough and Prowl wriggled out of his grasp.

The Praxian struggled to get free of the confining blankets but managed to do so before Jazz could renew his efforts to trap him. Prowl was quickly far away from him, backing into the partition they had found the blankets behind.

Jazz jumped to his feet and followed, angling his steps to herd Prowl into the enclosed area. There was no way he was letting Prowl get away with kissing him like that then escaping. Unicron would have to eat Cybertron before he let that happen.

Prowl didn't seem to realize that he was being manipulated until Jazz stood at the open end of the box. His 'superior officer' stared at him with a conflicted expression. He could see despair sitting over the top of a decent amount of lust. Jazz's engine revved and his spark surged; he was going to have Praxian for dinner tonight.

"I apologize, Jazz. My behaviour was inappropriate."

Jazz grinned. "Ya behaviour was fine, Prowler. Ya thought you were havin' a dream... What I am curious about," He slinked forward, resting his hands on the finely made chest. "Is how long ya've been dreamin'a me and didn' tell me."

Prowl looked uncomfortable his optics flicking around the small hideaway. "Please let me leave."

"Nah, not till ya answer my question."

Prowl avoided his gaze but Jazz was having none of that. He could see just what Prowl wanted to deny, could feel the same thing burning hot in his spark.

“How long have ya been dreamin’ of me, Prowler?”

Prowl winced and Jazz pressed in closer, the icy temperatures that had begun to fill his body now dissipated by the Prowl-induced heat. He leaned into Prowl, letting him take some of his weight. Prowl’s hands automatically coming up to support him and making Jazz purr gently.

“I wonder if it’s as long as I’ve been dreamin’ o’ya.”

Surprise covered Prowl’s face and Jazz pushed up to catch his lips in a short kiss. Heat flared in his spark as Prowl’s hands tightened on him. When he leaned back Jazz saw Prowl’s face was still locked in a stunned expression, his optics wide and unfocused.

Jazz bit back his grin and wrapped his arms around Prowl’s waist, the movement bringing the other mech out of his stall.

“Jazz, I…we…”

“Shhh, Prowler. It’s okay, I ain’t gonna force ya if ya don’ want me. Although from the way ya were molestin’ me on the floor, I think ya do.” Jazz teased, his fingers stroking along the shivering panels under them.

“What I want is irrelevant. We are officers and cannot get involved.”

Jazz’s brow rose. That was an unspoken rule left over from Sentinel Prime’s days; Optimus Prime wasn’t the sort to enforce it though. Jazz knew of plenty of couples in leadership positions; Prime’s semi-obvious flirting with Elita-1 was a dead give-away of their involvement.

But Prowl was Prowl, and Prowl didn’t bend in his idea of ‘right’ unless impressively convinced. The question now was; was Jazz capable of impressively convincing the serious mech to change his mind?

His confidence was boosted by the fact that Prowl hadn’t let go of him yet.

“Well, how about I tell ya what I want and we’ll see if we can find a compromise?”

A wary light entered Prowl’s optics but he didn’t attempt to get away.

Jazz increased the pressure of his hands, stroking up and down Prowl’s back. “I want ya. I wanna wake up wit ya like we did just now. I wanna walk into ya office on base and lock the door ‘cause I don’ like bein’ interrupted when I drive ya senseless. I wanna watch ya come undone under my hands and feel yours all over me.”

Prowl’s optics shuttered and he leaned into Jazz’s hands. Jazz felt the heat in his systems begin to build again. He pulled Prowl closer and pressed his lips against Prowl’s. The cold had returned to Prowl’s derma and Jazz had a momentary thought that they might stick together. His worry as dissolved as Prowl returned his kiss, mouth moving gently in concert with Jazz’s. He moaned into Prowl’s mouth as his fantasies came true in his arms.

Their lips parted and Jazz trailed kisses up to Prowl’s audio sensor. “I want ya to hold me when a mission goes bad and give me something to look forward to when I’m in the medbay.”

Prowl’s arms wrapped around his back and Jazz thrilled that he’d gotten such a reaction.

“I want to look after ya when ya’ve worked yaself into recharge and I want to see ya smile. I’ll even give ya an alibi when ya pull revenge pranks.”

Prowl’s brow rose and Jazz grinned.

“Yes, I know ya can give the Twins a run for their credits. An’ do regularly.” He moved his hands up over Prowl’s chest to wind them around his neck. “Now that ya know what I want, what do you want?”

Jazz paused, biting at his lower lip as he waited for a response from the serious mech. He hoped Prowl wouldn’t pull away from him now, not when all he’d dreamed of was right in his hands. They’d be an unexpected couple but Jazz’s creators were distinctly different as well. At the same time Jazz didn’t really care what anyone else thought of their relationship since only the two of them really mattered.

His fingers tightened on each other as anxiety swirled in his chest.

Prowl looked down at him, the minor height difference between them making it easy for Jazz to watch the flickering shades of Prowl’s optics. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that his own desires were enough to change Prowl’s opinion on their own but they might get him to consider his own wants and needs. Jazz just hoped he fit into what Prowl wanted in the long run.

A white hand came up to cup Jazz’s cheek; he leaned into the warming touch without breaking optic-contact.

“I do not wish to develop a deeper emotional attachment to you only to lose you on one of your missions.”

Jazz’s spark soared at the ‘deeper emotional attachment’ then fell as Prowl finished his sentence.

“I want the things you do but I would be rendered ineffective to Prime if you did not return.”

Again Jazz’s spark jumped and plummeted.

When it looked like Prowl wasn’t going to continue Jazz loosened his grip and pulled his hands down. As much as he didn’t want to let go of Prowl it was pointless to remain attached to him after that.

Jazz kept the pain in his spark carefully masked, this was hardly a surprise but the hope that had built since he’d found himself under Prowl now left him feeling raw.

He went to step away and couldn’t hold back the disappointment he felt as Prowl’s arms fell away.

The cold returned to his plating as he moved further back. “I’ll, uh, see ya around, Prowl.”

Jazz escaped, hurrying away from the closed off space while trying not to look like he running. In the main section of the room the frontliners were beginning to stir, more than a few of them remained curled around each other. Jazz’s spark pulsed painfully as he fled the room, the memory of waking up with Prowl chasing him out.


	2. Chapter 2

Prowl checked over the ship’s systems restlessly. There was an estimated twenty-nine cycles left in their trip to reach the safety of Ultra Magnus’ command. He hoped they would be rescued before then. He doubted he would be able to take too many more cycles like these last twelve. His spark pulsed strongly; had it only been twelve cycles since he’d molested Jazz on the floor?

His vents huffed as residual charge flickered across his sensor-net, reminding him yet again of the colossal cluster-frag he’d made with Jazz. His spark burned brightly with desire for the lithe mech while at the same time sending painful high-charge barbs against its’ crystal casing. His body was punishing him for the mistakes his processor made.

All up, Prowl was feeling dreadful, mind and body.

His roster pinged and a soft curse escaped him. It was just about time to do a changeover. Prowl briefly considered denying the request, he had holed himself away in the cockpit for as long and as often as he could since the ‘incident’. He hadn’t seen Jazz during the few cycles he had taken to rest.

Well, that wasn’t true; he’d caught a glimpse of the mech as he’d entered the communal area everyone was huddled in. He’d seen the distinctive sensor horns and a flash of a visor before the smaller mech had been enveloped by a blanket and pulled into a group of frontliners.

It was a small mercy that no signs of interfacing had come from that group, unlike some of the other pairs and trines curled up and around each other.

His spark ached as he thought of Jazz, the way his face had fallen when Prowl had denied him. Logic dictated that a relationship between them would end in tragedy and suffering. His emotions had screamed that it was worth the risk but Jazz had already slipped away.

Even now he questioned his choice, was it worthwhile to live alone or to risk some hurt in following his desires? Could he be efficient in his work with a lover to worry for? Would he allow Jazz to continue taking dangerous missions? Could he continue to plan them?

Prowl vented again and straightened his posture, he’d been dwelling in self-pity for long enough. A solution would present itself if he allowed his processor the time to work through the issues. His wing joints tensed and cramped in protest, they had grown cold in the frigid temperature of the cockpit.

Now all he had to do was wait for his replacement and search out some energon. The quality of which was poor but still managed to keep his systems running, some of the frontliners would have to be treated for malnourishment when they finally reached safety. He made a note to send a medical request with the next location beacon.

He felt his spark twinge as his thoughts began to wander, his experience with Jazz after onlining all those cycles ago still sat front and centre in his processor. As much as he knew he should delete the memory or at least file it away for off-shift contemplation, he couldn’t and it played when he wasn’t actively focusing, leaving him even more frustrated and with slightly more charge than before.

His doorwings flicked in annoyance, pain flaring from the cold joints, even as he told himself not to take his bad mood out on the mech taking over from him.

Jazz’s glowing visor and mischievous smirk might haunt his thoughts but that was no excuse to reprimand his replacement, even if the feel of finally holding him as close as he’d always wanted to was burned into his sensor-net and sending him crazy.

Prowl shook his head, wanting the circling thoughts to dissipate. The things he’d said to the spy had been valid. He worried about Jazz’s safety now, if they became involved it would undoubtedly get worse. His duties to Prime and the Autobots had to come before his personal desires.

Although it would be nice to wake up with the mech in his arms like he had earlier. His spark heated with the memories of feeling the spy draped over his chest and then under him and squirming so delightfully.  
Prowl’s engine growled appreciatively, not at all helping the charge still running through his systems. He would have to wait until they were docked before dissipating the charge Jazz had brought on.

That would make the rest of the time spent aboard the ship terribly uncomfortable, worse than the last twelve cycles.

If he was a bolder mech he might ask Jazz to share with him, despite what he’d said and the way Jazz had run. No, he wouldn’t ask Jazz to do that, it would cause more harm than good. The spy had exposed himself and Prowl had slammed the proverbial door in his face.

He’d felt like an utter glitch afterwards too.

“You’re late.” Prowl didn’t turn around as the cockpit doors opened, he merely kept his attention on the monitors until he was certain he could control his expression.

“Ya, sorry ‘bout that.”

Prowl’s doorwings jerked and Prowl tightened his grip on the controls as his spark whirled happily.

He turned slowly, the chair squeaking as it moved. “Jazz? I thought Crank was rostered to take the next shift.”

Jazz shifted from one foot to the other as Prowl watched him, he didn’t look happy to be there but at the same time he didn’t seem upset. He was strangely neutral, his face lacking its usual expressiveness.

“He got stuck fixin’ the engines. ‘Pparently he has some experience hot-wirin’ interstellar engines. Who knew, hey?”

The forced casualness of the reply stung, this was not how he wanted his interactions with Jazz to go. If he’d just been able to keep his hands to himself they wouldn’t be in this situation.

Prowl’s optics dropped as he mentally berated himself for endangering the friendship he’d cultivated with Jazz.

“Ya gonna share the chair, mech?”

An image of Jazz seated in his lap surged forward and Prowl had to force away the excited rumble of his engine. His wings flicked and shivered in an effort to dispel some of the charge the image had brought on.

He stood stiffly, cables and gears tensed due to a mixture of the cold, Jazz’s presence and the charge still running through his systems. The chair squeaked behind him.

The room wasn’t very spacious and Prowl was far too aware that they would have to pass close to one another. His spark pulsed strongly, wanting to get as close to the one it wanted as possible.

Perhaps it would be prudent to remain as navigator for another shift, or until someone other than the mech who could reduce him to a flustered mess was free to take over.

Jazz stepped closer and to the side to allow Prowl room only that was the last thing he wanted right now. He was alone, properly alone with Jazz, in a room that was marginally warmer than frigid and they were unlikely to be disturbed for another eight joors.

Prowl’s hands moved without conscious thought, wrapping around Jazz’s upper arms and pulling him in. He was only slightly taller than Jazz but with his wings flared wide as they were now he knew he could appear quite intimidating. However his display wasn’t aggressive and if Jazz had felt even a little threatened he could get away easily.

He stared down into Jazz’s questioning face for a moment before seizing his lips. Jazz tensed briefly before softening and leaning into him, returning the pressure of the kiss. Prowl transferred his grip, one arm wrapping around Jazz’s middle while the other curled around the back of his neck. He tugged a little and brought Jazz’s body in full contact with his, his engine purring hotly at the sensations of having the spy pressed against him again.

 

 

Jazz clutched at Prowl’s shoulders as he was kissed. No, that wasn’t right. Ravished. He was being ravished by the normally reserved Prowl and he loved it.

Prowl’s glossa teased his lips and Jazz had no hesitation about parting his lips to welcome Prowl inside. His spark surged as lust pinged hotly through his body. A soft growl escaped him as he tasted Prowl, he’d had a brief taste before and his processor reeled as he took in as much as he could.

It was like getting stung with a particularly high-voltage electric charge, leaving your systems straining with the effort to deal with the excess power slinging through them.

His primary and secondary vents opened and roared to life but Jazz knew they wouldn’t be able to bring his temperature down far enough.

Prowl’s hand roamed over his back and hips almost tentatively and became more confident as Jazz didn’t refuse but moved into the touches. The hand on his neck tightened incrementally until Jazz couldn’t have pulled away if he wanted to.

Glossa slid against glossa as they got lost in the heated moment. Black hands curled around wing hinges, causing Prowl to moan into the kiss and increase the passion with which he was devouring Jazz’s ability to do anything other than cling.

Heat and pleasure was flooding his system in a potent mix that left Jazz’s processor a delirious slab of mush inside his helm.

Doorwings moved into his touch, sending a thrill through his spark. Prowl was really getting into what they were doing, if the way he was grinding lightly against Jazz’s pelvis was any indication. The sweet friction had Jazz’s optics flickering in pleasure.

This completely unexpected turn in Prowl’s behaviour would have made Jazz pause if his wits hadn’t scarpered. He had spent most of the last several cycles devoutly not thinking about the mess he’d made with Prowl and now the mech was successfully stopping him from thinking at all.

Non-delirious Jazz would have been asking what the frag was going on.

Until he returned however, aroused Jazz was focused on discovering the best ways to get Prowl’s engine revving. Wings were an obvious choice but Jazz was certain there were some sneakier hotspots.

He pulled his mouth away from Prowl’s, the reluctant whine escaping his partner turned into a deep groan as Jazz attacked the shiny red chevron. Prowl’s head tipped forward to accommodate as Jazz licked the broad front panels before clamping his denta down lightly on the thin edge and nibbling.

Prowl’s grip on his waist tightened further and Jazz was sure he’d have dents that would be interesting to explain later.

Without warning Jazz was pulled from his comfortable position and held away from Prowl’s frame and for the second time that trip the cold air smashed a hole in his sensual haze.

Prowl’s optics shone brightly in the dim room and Jazz could clearly hear the roar of overworked systems, he suspected his own were making a contribution to the racket. His environmental sensors informed him that they had managed to increase the rooms’ temperature one point seven degrees.

“What the slag, Prowl? What was that?” His voice sounded far too loud in a room where only their fans could be heard.

Frustration licked along his circuitry but Jazz held it at bay. He wanted to jump right back into Prowl’s arms, to pick up right back where he’d left off; nibbling that sexy chevron. Instead he stood there, tense as unfulfilled desire rippled through his systems and glared at the mech that had caused it.

The cycles since their romp on the floor had been hell. Forced to keep up his usual friendly and relaxed demeanour when all he really wanted to do was find a dark, not frozen, corner and rid himself of the charge since it wasn’t dissipating like normal. Certainly didn’t help that he kept thinking of backing Prowl against a wall and teasing him until he succumbed.

Just the brief thought of his fantasy had his spark pulsing warmly, sending lust through his body. Stop! He screamed internally. Not now!

Jazz mustered his best glare and hoped Prowl couldn’t see just how badly he was affected. “What the Pit was that? Ya can’ tell me ya want nothin’ ta do with me and then frag my circuits like that.”

Prowl’s grip tensed around his arms but Jazz didn’t attempt to break free. He was busy watching the conflict happening behind Prowl’s optics, the bright orbs telling him that the mech was thinking hard.

Probably trying to work out what had just happened, Jazz thought. I wonder what percentages he has running through his head. I wonder if the percentage for me punching him in the face is higher than me just jumping him.

“Are you angry?”

The urge to punch the handsome face surged. “Of course I’m angry! Ya play me like an instrument then ditch me, only to do it all over again. Right now I need an overload more than I need decent energon.”

Prowl nodded but Jazz could see the struggle his processor was going through. It was fascinating watching the lights flicker in the backs of his optics as he ran scenarios and algorithms through the powerful tac-net attached to his processor.

Light blue optics cleared and doorwings fluttered. “I would not be opposed-“

“Ya’d better fraggin’ not be.” Jazz growled and broke Prowl’s hold on him. It kept his desire up and that was just cruel at this point.

Prowl frowned. “You must let me finish.”

Jazz propped his hands on his hips. “Must I?”

“Please.”

He huffed and cocked his hip to the side but stayed silent. Part of him enjoyed the uncertainty Prowl was radiating, it was such a rare occurrence that it had to be appreciated, even if he did walk away from this feeling worse than before.

“If you could give me some sort of assurance that I wouldn’t have to mourn you, I would not be opposed to exploring a more intimate relationship with you.”

Jazz wasn’t certain he’d heard that properly and replayed the comment in his head until he was sure it was imprinted for eternity.

“Say what?” he said, highly eloquent as always.

Prowl’s optics dropped to the floor momentarily before coming back up to meet his.

“I realise that it is contradictory to what I said earlier yet I do not want to be without you.” There was a slight twitch to his brow that displayed the conflict that was still spinning within his processor “I hadn’t considered a future with you to be more than a fantasy, an impossible dream, but now that I have had you in my arms I find that I do not want to let go.”

A shiver started in his spark, strengthening until his limbs were shaking. There was no way this was actually happening. He’d hit is head doing maintenance and this was a figment conjured up by his wonky processor.

His optics remained locked on Prowl’s and he forced his knees not to give in. “Ya ain’t holdin’ me.”

Prowl’s movements were hesitant as he circled Jazz’s waist. “Now I do not wish to let go.”

Warmth swamped his spark even as his own pragmatic thinking stepped up to bust his bubble. How could he promise that he wouldn’t die? It was a distinct possibility every time he left the base.

He thought about ignoring the depressive truths but knew he couldn’t if they were going to give this a genuine try.

Jazz lifted his arms and returned the embrace. “How do we do this? My job means I gotta be involved in some not-so-safe situations. I can’ promise that I’ll always come back in one piece.”

“So long as you come back I will have to be satisfied.” Prowl replied as he held Jazz tighter.

Jazz let out the smile that had been sitting in his spark. “Well, as long as I get woken up like I did a few cycles back, I can promise to do my best and get back to ya. No missin’ limbs will hold me back.”

A faint smile appeared on Prowl’s face. “I would prefer it if you remained connected to all of your extremities.”

“Sure thing, handsome.”

Jazz slid a hand behind Prowl’s head and pulled him down for a kiss. Instead of the searing passion they had experience before, this kiss was slow and sweet.

The first touch of their lips was just brush of derma, little contact that sent tingles through Jazz's frame. The second and third followed suit, each one increasing the pressure just a little. The next was teasing, Prowl bumped his nasal ridge against Jazz's who responded with a playful nip.

It was on the fourth playful kiss that Prowl's hands began to wander over Jazz's body, setting off tremors wherever he went. Jazz moaned into the short kisses as his spark pulsed strongly, he wanted to pull Prowl in for a deeper kiss but this exploration of each other was so much more intimate than just trying to get into a mechs' plating. He could feel each movement of Prowl's lips, each minute change in pressure and the rising temperature of the metal pressed against him.

Jazz's spark sang as all of that was overwhelmed by the fact that he could feel the excitement and cautiousness radiating from Prowl. Feel in every touch of his hands how much he meant to him. Jazz pushed his desire and affection back, wanting Prowl to know that he wasn't just after a quick affair but something serious.

It sent Jazz's spark fluttering when Prowl held him tighter. Delight flowing through his system at the reaction.

Prowl nipped at his lower lip before sealing their mouths together, the kiss was still relatively chaste but the passion was bubbling up beneath their plating. Jazz's fingers inched up to grasp the back of his helm, the smooth roundness fitting nicely into his palms.

The length of their bodies melded together perfectly, each sensor pinging pleasurably. Slight friction was created as they shifted and rocked together, the movements boosting the heat in their sparks.

Jazz’s hands clutched at Prowl’s helm and neck, he used his grip there to start climbing his frame. One leg caught of the flare of hip armour and Jazz hoisted himself up further, relishing the scrape and drag of metal against metal.

Prowl stumbled back and landed heavily in the chair. It squealed sharply at the abuse but neither mech paid it any attention. Jazz’s glossa was now thoroughly mapping out the inside of Prowl’s mouth, his energon burning with the need to overload in Prowl’s arms.

He shivered as a hand caressed his helm and massaged the base of one of his horns, a strong purr started in his engine and Jazz leaned into the touch. It was soothing, the sensations the direct opposite of what Prowl’s other hand was producing in his hip wiring.

Jazz bucked into Prowl as his fingers spread the delightful feelings up his spinal column. The hand pulled out of his armour and rested on his hip.

“Stop Jazz. Stop.” Prowl vented against his cheek.

Jazz released a whine but eased back enough to look into Prowl’s optics. “What?”

His head shook gently. “Not here, I won’t do this here.”

Jazz squirmed on Prowl’s lap, the charge in his systems horribly/wonderfully high. “Prowl, please. No one is goin’ta come lookin’ for us for joors… I want ya.”

The shudder that rolled through Prowl made Jazz grin, he loved that he could bring such a reaction from the reserved mech. Ice blue optics stared into his intensely and Jazz was momentarily lost in the myriad of emotions he saw there.

“I want you too, Jazz, believe me but I will not have our first time be in a broken down transport cycles from safety. One decent overload and we might not have enough energy to power back on. I don’t particularly want to explain why you suddenly dropped into stasis.”

Jazz leered. “Think ya can blow my fuses hard enough to offline me?”

Prowl matched his look and kissed him hard. “I’ll blow them so hard you’ll need to replace them.”

Jazz trembled, lust shooting through his frame. He ground his hips down onto Prowl’s for a few delicious seconds before white hands stilled his movements. The dark shade of Prowl’s optics showed that he had been enjoying the tactile stimulation.

Jazz grinned and kissed him again, letting this one be relaxed despite the demands of his body. Prowl’s low moan tested the limits of his control but Jazz managed to bring his desire under control by the barest wire.

He pulled away, resting his helm against Prowl’s and venting swiftly to help ease the high-temperature running through his body. Keeping his optics online was a mistake as he got a very closer view of the Praxian’s still aroused features.

Jazz groaned and pecked a kiss to Prowl’s lips. “Ya need to stop bein’ so sexy.”

“That is more your issue than mine.” Hands caressed his back and Jazz arched into them. It felt so nice. “I do not leave broken sparks behind me when I leave a room.”

Jazz sat up straight, carefully ignoring the delightful scrape of Prowl’s hips between his thighs. “I do not.”

Prowl’s optics lightened towards his normal tone. “You did to me.”

There was no censure in his voice that Jazz could pick out, only a mech stating a fact. His spark cooled, the charge racing through him subsiding as he searched the face in front of him. Had he really upset Prowl that much? How long had he been hurting this mech?

Jazz raised a hand and traced the line of Prowl’s face from under his optics to the edge of his lips. “I’m sorry, Prowler. I didn’t know I was hurtin’ ya. I’ll do my best to brighten ya spark and not dim it.”

A rare smiled lifted his lips. “You have already brightened my spark so much I’m astonished my armour isn’t glowing. I never expected this to happen. Although it is not logical to pursue a relationship with the war as it is, I find my emotions are reacting stronger to the idea of having you as my own than my logic circuits.”

Jazz’s smile returned and he leaned in to kiss Prowl leisurely. He could get used to this side of Prowl, the tender, sexy mech who could electrify his spark with simple words.

“Keep that up and I might fall in love with ya.”

A brow rose. “Well we cannot allow that, I will aim to keep you distracted from your emotions.”

“Oh yeah? How would ya do that?” Jazz asked, reading the subtle playful tilt to Prowl’s lips.

“The logical course would be to administer repeated overloads until your processing unit overheats.”

Jazz’s spark jumped and he tried to maintain a neutral expression. “I think that we should definitely explore ya theory once we hit the base. I know of a nice little space where no one ever visits. Guaranteed privacy.”

Prowl purred, the sound sending barbs of heat through Jazz’s spark. “One of the storage areas?”

He shook his head and grinned mischievously. “My office.”

Prowl’s optics lit up in surprise before a soft laugh flowed out. Jazz soaked it up; Prowl’s laughter was rarer than his smiles. He’d been blessed to hear the sound only twice now and it sweeter to his audio receptors than the most skilful crystal symphony.

“You have a deal.”


End file.
